


Lucid

by Stariceling



Category: Death Note
Genre: Dreams, Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-04
Updated: 2008-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-06 00:03:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stariceling/pseuds/Stariceling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Light's thoughts in the middle of the night. Maybe his mind isn't as clear as it should be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lucid

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for mid/late Death Note.

The faint light of passing headlights on the streets outside and late-night neon signs cast a grey glow over the room, dimly outlining shapes in the dark. Little things like that, like the low rumble and click of the air conditioning turning itself off, were enough to remind Light that he wasn’t at home.

There was another sound in the dim room, one that Light had become so accustomed to that he didn’t notice it at once. The faint clinking at his side the signaled movement. It reminded him once again that L was there, just on the other end of the chain. He must be awake as well.

Light rolled over to face towards the wall, leaving his left arm stretched out beside him as he did so, to keep from pulling the chain and L with him. It was one of a thousand little gestures he’d picked up to deal with L’s enforced proximity, and to avoid becoming entangled with him.

There was no need to look over to the other side of the bed, he could actually see L in his mind’s eye. L was probably sitting up on the pillow again, his knees tucked up to his chin. Light could even picture how his toes would curl against the pillow, as if clutching at the pillowcase. He would be staring out into the darkened room, maybe biting his thumb, or fidgeting with something, something that kept the chain moving. The little sounds of the chain shifting continued, confirming that L was awake.

L’s oddities seemed consistent to Light now, but they were more obvious at night. Some nights he would sit awake for hours, staring into some middle distance in the dim light. More often than not he fell asleep sitting up, either leaning back against the headboard, or curled in on himself with his cheek or forehead pressed against his knees.

The noises of the chain shifting stopped at last. Good. Concentrating on them wasn’t doing anything to help Light sleep. Maybe L had settled down for once.

“Yagami-kun.”

There was no reason for Light to respond. He was supposed to be asleep. He wasn’t here to lie awake and chat with L in the dark. In fact, now that he thought about it, since when was he the one lying awake? He nearly always slept through the night, not waking just because of L’s restless movements.

Light kept his eyes closed tight, his breathing even, his back turned toward L. Even so he could feel L watching him, and he knew L wouldn’t move until he responded. He didn’t want to respond, didn’t want to be awake, but the back of his neck prickled with the feeling of L’s eyes on him.

L wasn’t going to stop watching him until he admitted he was awake, and Light didn’t think he could fall asleep with L _staring_ at him like that. A slight concession now might be worth it to get to sleep. It might be worth letting L think he had proved something, even something meaningless.

With this in mind, Light let himself relax onto his back, opening his eyes and turning his head towards the gaze he could feel as a tangible force. He was about to ask what was so important that L needed to hang over him, but stopped in confusion when he realized he couldn’t see L. Only a moment ago he had been sure he felt L’s eyes on his back, so why couldn’t he see L beside him?

Light’s hand had drifted into the shadows where he was sure L had to be, and he realized that once he reached for the other side of the bed he could no longer clearly see his own hand. The room was obviously darker than he had first thought.

Withdrawing his hand to where he could see it again, Light contemplated the manacle around his wrist, plain even in the dim light. He could see how soundly it fit him, so much so that he had suspected L had somehow gotten it made specifically for him. If not for the disturbance L made at the other end of the chain, he might have been able to forget he was wearing it.

The chain links attached to that manacle trailed off into the darkness. He knew, he _trusted_ , that L was at the other end of that chain. He was always there, for better or for worse. Light only wondered what L was doing lurking in the dark instead of being right in his face if he really wanted something.

Well, whatever L was up to, finding him should be an easy task. It wouldn’t matter how dark it was. Light lay the first two fingers of his manacled hand on the chain and followed it into the darkness. At first it was easy, following the repetitive texture of the chain links. Then, after a moment it was as if his fingers went numb. He couldn’t seem to tell the cool chain from the cool sheet below it.

Light was not one to give up so easily. He wrapped his fingers around the cool something that should have been the chain, if only because his hand was on it, and continued to search for the end that had to be connected to L.

He was rewarded for this effort as his hand brushed something warm. Something that could not be smooth sheets or unyielding metal. His fingers discovered it, and his hand instinctively wrapped around it, and he knew it to be L’s hand.

Somehow, Light couldn’t help being surprised when that warm hand remained limp, instead of grasping his seeking hand in return. Hadn’t L wanted him for something? Light could not believe that the query had been only in his head. Had L fallen asleep for once? The hand felt so limp and unresponsive in his grip, L must be either asleep or faking it.

Or dead. Light felt a sudden snap of mental clarity as he realized he was dreaming. The details around him suddenly became less distinct as his mind became clearer. He could no longer feel, really feel, L’s hand in his. He clenched his hand down on L’s hand, but he only knew he held it because he knew he had grasped it.

Light couldn’t move his body, couldn’t shake the feeling that if he stared hard enough into the darkness L would appear, like a specter from the void. And at the same time he knew L was dead. Light knew he had won, that he had been the one to bring about L’s death. The only thing he didn’t know was how he could have not known that, even in the middle of an old dream.

Obviously Light couldn’t trust his own memories, not in his dreams. How else could he have forgotten something so important, and believed that he was back in that room he had once shared with L? His memories of that time when he chose to forget about the death note were indistinct compared to everything else he had done to achieve his goals, so maybe they were best regulated to mere dreams.

Even the things Light was sure he did remember were suspect. He couldn’t seem to sort out what had happened in his waking life and what was merely a memory of a similar dream. He knew he had seen L sitting up on his pillow on sleepless nights. He knew he had forgotten momentarily that L was his enemy. He knew he had felt L die in his arms. It was the memory of having reached out in the dark to grasp L’s hand that tormented him. Light could not decide if that had ever been real, or if he was remembering yet another dream.

He was sure he had never tried to take L’s hand, because what reason would he have had to reach out to L? What reason did he have to be dreaming of L, now that he had won? He could no longer even feel L’s hand in his through the half-shredded fog of sleep. When he woke it would become obvious that the memory was nothing more than a misapprehension that came with this dream.

Light thought he could remember the feeling of L’s hand clasping his in return, but that was nothing. It had to be nothing. Just a fragment of another lucid dream.


End file.
